Through The Snow:A History Of Those That Built It
by Topknot Dragonbane
Summary: Just a simple story I mess with from time to time. The story of a young woman, and old man, and two children, who help in the construction of the Dark Tower and the worlds that spin around it. Rating Pending.
1. Chapter 1

Hello dear readers. To those of you who have read my stories in the past, I must apologies, but they are gone.

There will be spelling and grammatical errors, but that's the way my brain works. Just let me know nicely you see them. 

This story is about the Dark Tower. It's my interpretation of the books, so please, if you see errors in characters, plot, or over arching themes, know that they are probably intentional.

Don't stress. Just read.

-Topknot

…….

Alami opened her eyes, the darkness that had been pressing into them dispersing like fog, breaking up and slipping away into nothingness as the sun came out to warm the earth. Sitting up she tried to blink the darkness away, but all that got her was points of colored lights swimming over her vision. After sitting still for a moment she saw that she was sitting in a grassy field. Now that she saw the tall shoots, waving towards bight blue sky, she could also feel them brushing against her well tanned arms. She smiled up at the sky, because though she could not see the sun, she felt its comforting warmth, and warmth was something Alami rarely felt in her life.

Sure when she was huddled around the fire in the family cave, she could felt the warmth flickering on her freckled face, or when she foraged for food she could feel the unseen sun on the back of her neck, but here, in this field, she could feel it on her muscled arms, her flat belly, and her long legs. Suddenly that stuck her as odd, and as she looked down the girl saw she was nude. That must be why she could feel the moist grass swaying against her, why she could feel it bunched under her bottom.

It didn't worry her to be nude, as she was so comfortable, but it did make her wonder. What was this place, where she was neither afraid of starving or freezing? Where there seemed to be no large beasts hiding in the shadows? She did not know, but for the first time in her life, not knowing was not a reason to fear.

It was only when she turned, and saw a dark spire, twisting jaggedly up into the sky that fear stole into her heart.

…….


	2. Chapter 2

Chaper Two: A New Start.

……

Zantaro was always a good worker, and he had prided himself on it his whole life.

So two winters ago, when his hands had refused to grasp the sharp rock that he had used since he was a boy to scrape the meat from fleshly harvested hides, he had tried to hide it from the other members of his tribe. He had made do by sneaking already scraped hides from the stack at the back of the east cave and lightly scooting the stone across the surface. But as this took sever concentration to make his hands cooperate with him; he had fallen out of the gossip that permeated the cave. That was when the other men had noticed, and he had been sent here, to a cave near the top of the City-Mound, its entrance long and its main hall deep within the grayish green stone, to take care of the priest-girl, Alami.

The young priestess was gorgeous, but to Zantaro's old eyes, this did not matter. This was why Alami only allowed the elder men of the tribe to serve her. She walked mostly naked within her own cave, usually only with a belt of polished stones slung over her curved hips. When it was time for the small group that lived with her to gather more food she dressed in thick furs and foraged with them, helping listen for the beasts the old men could no longer hear.

Though the loss of his lifelong job, one that required and acquired skill and kept the entire village from freezing to death, had at first filled him with shame, it had not taken Zantaro long at all to come to terms with his new life.

Combing the presets' hair, scrubbing the dirt from her skin, cleaning her nails, and otherwise keeping up her appearance was just the meticulous, attention demanding task he thrived on. And it also helped that Alami treated him with the utmost kindness and spoiled him. She was good to all of those who lived with and served her, but she seemed to have grown especially fond of Zantaro, and even called him _Naltali, _an affectionate word young girls usually used to address their older brothers and close cousins.

The old man had grown to love this young woman, and it was on this that he reflected, watching her naked from splayed on a pile of furs as she slept. Glad his body was still quite spry; he looked on her from his perch three feet above the ground, curled in a deep nook in the wall that served him as a bed. Her reddish hair fanned out from her pale face, the bright freckled that dotted her body that where sprinkled so generally across her face seemed to reflect the flecks of precious stones burried into eh walls of the cave. Each of these stones glittered in the torchlight.

Seeing that the fire needed tending, the old man slipped from his nook and took a few logs and a fist full of dried leaves from the stacks near the entrance of the cave the two slept in that was off the main hall. He laid them in the lowering fire, giving it light and strength.

When it flared in gratitude for its fuel, sending out waves of heat into the stony room, Zantaro heard his priestess' moan. He sat back on his haunches, looking past the fire at her sleeping from. Her fists where clenched, her back slightly arched, and she started at the ceiling with open, blank eyes. The elderly man had heard that moan and seen that look before, and he wondered as he wearily kept his old eye on her, what world she was looking into this night.

…….


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: YELLOW

…….

The priestess looked away from the tall monstrosity polluting the once perfect sky, and here, where there had been grass she saw only dry cracked earth. The backed dirt starched all the way to the horizon, only broken by occasional pools of blackish ooze. Alami clamped her mouth shut, realizing with dawning horror that she was in a dream, and so, she must not speak or she would flashy influence the dream and draw the attention of unwanted things.

She tired to stand but found her legs week and she tumbled into the grayish dirt, scraping her knees. Sitting back she tried to figure out the meaning of this dream as the light of day began to fade. The sky slowly filled with a sick, bright yellow color, light the likes of witch she had never seen. Knowing that the sauce was behind her, either in or around the black monstrosity, the presses did what she least wanted to do, and turned, understanding that this was the only way to understand what the Unknown was trying to tell her.

The thorn like thing twisted up, the yellow light it glowed with strong in the now dark sky. It looked as if something had outlined it with flecks of pollen and dots of light, the odd color emanating from it was pulsing and non constant.

_Many eons ago._ A voice that was not a voice boomed in her head. _We created the means for life. _She listened carefully, her face screwed up in pain from the words. This sound that was not a voice was like running water, beating drums, and like the howling of wolves. It was joyous and terrible at the same time, and if she had not heard whispers of it in the past, Alami was sure that it would have driven her mad. _They where orbs, shaped like planets, drops of water, the fire in the sky. _As each word hit her like a strong wave from the sea, it carried with it an image that it washed into her brain. She now understood what an Orb was, though she had never heard the word before. _There are 12, but this is not enough. We need them to be a number of power, and you, child of Us, will create a thirteenth._

The message words stopped but she sensed whatever was speaking to her was merely waiting. So she spoke, her voice sturdy despite the quiver in her limbs. "This I will do Strong One." Alami said, shielding her eyes against the glare of the mad shape in the distance. "But I know not how."

_First. _It said, flooding her with images of an animal she had been raised since she was a babe at her mother's breast to fear, _You will find the others. The first is YELLOW. _

Feeling the power fade as the light in the distance began to dim, Alami called out, "Forgive me for my mortal mistakes I will surly make on this journey, and know that I am pleased and humbled by your choice in me as your vassal."

The color on the horizon winked out at her words, and the image of the thing of darkness was burned into her vision, but already she felt herself slipping from the realm of sleep and back to her own, cold realworld. Blinking rapidly she tried to see through the descending gloom at the thing in the distance. The last thing that the voice that was not a voice had left her, was another new word.

This one was "Tower."

…….


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Sweat and Tears

…….

Alami sat bold upright, sending the furs that covered her nude body rippling down her chest and startling the small furry weasel that she kept as a pet. It darted out of the firelight into the darkness further in the cave, into the hall that served as a meeting place that was behind the sleepingplace. Her large, pale eyes cast about in the flickering, low light cast by the warm fire, looking for her friend, who was always there to calm her.

And she saw him sitting in the same place he usually was when she returned from Nodd, the land of dreams, with a message from the wavering minds of the Others or the Higher beings.

His body kept many secrets, she knew, but it always surprised her to see him sit just was the young men sat around their cooking fires in the caves below, balanced on his toes, knees to his chest, arms folded on knees, regarding her with faded blue eyes over his still sturdy arms, carefully coifed hair framing his time warn face. When he saw her eyes where open and focused he unfolded himself and came to sit beside her.

"Alami… what is yellow?" he asked.

Frowning, hating that the lower the people of the caves lived the less words they knew, she said, "It is a color. It is like my eyes."

He nodded, understanding, and touched her cheek, where there was moisture. "Sweat." He muttered, in a voice that was cracked from sitting to close to smoky cooking fires all his young life, "Tears. Going and coming seems hard on you Mistress. Why do you do it?"

"I do only as I am commanded." She said, looking away. "As do we all."

This Zantaro also understood. He had done as he was commanded by the leader of his cave, and now he did as his priestess commanded him to do. "Shall I fetch water so you may wash?" he asked, taking back her hand.

"No." she said' moving the covers to reveal one milky leg, and scooting over. He moved next to her, laying on his back and waiting as she snuggled up to his side. "We must go to the woods tomorrow… so we can go to the springs on our way back. For now, friend, stay here and anchor me to the Realworld..."

Even as she finished this sentence she was drifting back to sleep. He looked over her head into the fire, hoping it would last the night and he wouldn't have to move from under the furs, and away from her side. Her head rested on his chest, his arm around her neck, other hand resting on the steady rise and fall of her belly. This, he knew, was as dangerous a place as any he had been in his life. The fact that she was showing such favoritism to him could mean only bad things. There was only one person higher than his beloved priestess, but that man was jealous, poisons, and lustful. These things made this soft, warm, comforting place a bad place to be.

But he stayed.

Because he loved her.

……


End file.
